


Just Be

by speedgriffon



Series: My Hovercraft is Full of Eeels | Agent Charmer [9]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Flirting, Post-Bunker Hill, Pre-Nuclear Option
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:28:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23060011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/speedgriffon/pseuds/speedgriffon
Summary: After the battle for Bunker Hill and Charmer's banishment from the Institute, Deacon isn't overly pleased. Except, his emotions should be the least of his worries. (Prompt Response)
Relationships: Deacon/Female Sole Survivor, Deacon/Sole Survivor (Fallout)
Series: My Hovercraft is Full of Eeels | Agent Charmer [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1591429
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26





	Just Be

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: The waver in a person’s voice when they’re stressed   
> (I just got carried away)

Deacon could still see the smoke on the horizon as he stood outside the Old North Church, wispy plumes of grey floating up into the evening sky as he stared Northbound. _Bunker Hill_ —while the Railroad had been successful in keeping the escaped synths alive and out of the Institute’s hands, the battle was far from a walk in the park. No, it was more like a walk in a minefield, with a mass of teleporting Gen-1s and Coursers— _oh_ —and the _Brotherhood of Steel_. How they managed to find out about the battle was beyond him, but it turned an already sticky situation nearly to disaster.

More Railroad agents were lost to both the Institute and the Brotherhood. While Bunker Hill had been saved, it was no longer a viable location for the Railroad. Worse yet, whatever undercover operation Charmer had been working on within the Institute walls was no longer a possibility. She had disappeared from the battlefield—out of Deacon’s sight—reappearing at Railroad headquarters not too long afterward looking completely dejected. She didn’t offer much to Desdemona, only that she had been banished from the Institute and that the Railroad’s _in_ , was _out_.

Their only hope now was to work with the Minutemen—a group Charmer had long been supportive of to begin with. More than that, she was their _General_ for Christ’s sake. Desdemona more than encouraged it, seeing the alliance as the golden opportunity the Railroad needed to end the Institute once and for all. Then again, the boss was always good at seeing things big picture.

Perhaps selfishly, Deacon wasn’t happy—at least in the moment—and decided that the best thing to do was to quietly remove himself from the room before he said something stupid in front of Charmer. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her with mean-spirited words when she was already visibly upset. No throwing a tantrum or dramatic words for _this guy_ —boy, had he changed—Des was bound to be suspicious, if she wasn’t already. It wasn’t until he was outside, defusing himself with a cigarette that he realized walking away _maybe_ wasn’t the best idea either. Charmer didn’t deserve to be abandoned, not right now, when she was at her most vulnerable.

_Jesus_ —he was a terrible boyfriend—lover— _whatevertheywere_.

He inhaled deeply, letting the gentle sting of nicotine settle in his lungs for a few moments before breathing out. Charmer, if she was there, would rather he _not_ smoke and so after one last huff he flicked the stub to the ground, snubbing it out with the toe of his boot. Just in time, he noticed a familiar shade of blonde hair out the corner of his eye slinking along the church sidewalk. For once he allowed her to sneak up on him, turning slightly towards her so she knew he wasn’t _completely_ blocking her out, despite his earlier exit.

“Hey,” she said, quietly, testing the waters.

Deacon was suddenly very nervous. All with one word—she truly had him wrapped around her finger—but did she even know it? He nodded at her, reining in his emotions. “Hey.”

Charmer’s expression was difficult to read. Even after all the time and emotional strife they had shared, she was a chameleon, so perfectly good at masking what was truly running through her mind. But he focused on those stormy blue eyes, the same he had been steadily falling in love with for months now. She was clearly troubled over the day’s events—more so from her conversation with Shaun, than what transpired at Bunker Hill. At least, Deacon was guessing there was a conversation with her son, or at least a disagreement, or else they wouldn’t be here now.

“Are you okay?” she asked next, and _there_ —subtly, he could hear it in the tone of her voice. She was asking _him_ the question but _oh man_ —Deacon could’ve choked on the guilt he felt rising in his chest.

Charmer shouldn’t be the one checking up on him when she had been the one doing the brunt of the emotional legwork for the Railroad. Institute infiltration? Zapped in and out without a clear indication of her survival? Running around Bunker Hill in a field of enemy soldiers and synths? _Yeah_. Comparatively, Deacon’s qualms were tiny. Minuscule. Practically nonexistent. Made him wonder why he was so resistant to helping the Minutemen in the first place. Weren’t they…on the same side?

“Woah now,” he started, reaching out his hands to rest on her shoulders, giving them an affectionate squeeze before shifting to brush a few fallen curls back behind her ear. His fingers lingered along her cheek and he offered a small, sympathetic smile. “I should be asking _you_. After today—”

He stopped, hating the way the words sounded and decided to start over. Even Charmer seemed momentarily confused by his pause, blinking at him until he spoke, “Hey, I’m sorry for storming out.”

“Is that what you call storming out?” she questioned, the slightest glimmer of amusement returning to her features. “I would love to see what a full-blown Deacon-diva breakdown looks like.”

He smirked, threading his fingers through her hair in soft little sweeps. “Shouting from the rooftop, extended monologues, broken glass…oh and nudity.”

Her eyebrows raised with a small smile as she hooked her arms gently around his waist. “Nudity works,” she paused, releasing a long sigh. “Today was… _not_ how I wanted things to go.”

Deacon nodded, allowing her all the time she needed to work through what she wanted to say. Charmer’s brows furrowed, and she frowned. “After all the time I spent searching for my son, whatever I had hoped to find, whatever relationship I had hoped to build with him—all I have is disappointment. The Institute—”

She broke off, eyes glazed over with tears that she blinked away. Her fingers twisted against the leather of his jacket as she shook her head. “I can’t blame him for the circumstances. He’s still my son, I still love him, I always will. But I can’t stand by and let him destroy the Commonwealth.”

Charmer didn’t say anything else, just settled herself against his chest as she hugged him, arms wrapping tightly around his middle. Deacon didn’t speak either and did what he could to comfort her in the moment and just held her, caressing her hair and running his hand down her back in soothing circles. Even if she was quiet about it, she was trembling in his arms, clearly crying, her hands clenching the back of his jacket as she hid her face in his shoulder.

How long they stood there, he wasn’t certain, but Deacon didn’t move until she did, slowly peeling away to glance up at him with a shaky smile. “Ugh, I’ve got snot all over your shirt.”

He reached to push at his sunglasses, so they rested on his head, snagging along his pompadour wig. Only Charmer got to see him like this, in their private little moments, but more and more he felt like the action was becoming _natural_. He softly chuckled at her half-hearted attempts to wipe at his chest, catching her hand in his.

“Is this an inappropriate time to make a joke about bodily fluids?”

Charmer’s laugh was a joyous relief, echoing out into the North End neighborhood night. She gazed at him, soft eyes just saying more than she ever needed to, those red stained lips curled up in a secret smile saved just for him. She rested one hand on his cheek—a gentle touch of her soft skin as she leaned up to kiss him—gingerly at first but it never stayed that way, not with them.

“You need some gum to chew on,” she teased him between heated kisses, tasting the smoke that lingered on his lips and tongue. But she didn’t stop, grinning against his mouth when he wedged her between his body and the church wall.

“No,” Deacon insisted, tucking her closer to himself. “I just need you.”

More kisses, more laughter and then it was just the two of them, stronger than ever, ready to face whatever the world was to throw at them.

“Where to next?” Deacon asked, knowing she had a plan.

Charmer shook her head, hugging him closer as she nuzzled her head into the crook of his shoulder. “Nowhere. At least not tonight,” she replied in a soft voice. “Tonight, I think we should just be.”

**Author's Note:**

> say hello over on tumblr @ eeveevie  
> kudos and comments are always appreciated :)


End file.
